White hair, silver eyes
by BleedingCrow
Summary: What if Teresa had decided to behead Priscilla while she still had the chance? Well, it would turn out something like this. Told from Irene's point of view.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Claymore. If I did own Claymore, I would use the money to move to Canada, so I can tie myself to trees and scream at loggers for a living.

**Author's Note: **I will try to post often, even though this is only one of the many projects I've been working on lately. I plan to put a lot of emotion into this story. Yuri? Maybe, if I think it's appropriate and will contribute to the mood I'm trying to set. Enjoy ~~

* * *

There I lay, face first in a pool of my own blood, which had been increasing for god knows how long. The same scenes kept playing over in my head, much like a picture book: Teresa's sword sliced through Priscilla's neck in a storm of blonde hair, blade and blood. Priscilla's head fell to the ground with a sickening _plop_ that rang in my ears for hours afterwards. Blood poured out of Priscilla's headless body, like a river. The human girl ran out of the hotel and into Teresa's arms, smiling up at her as the Claymore petted her. Teresa held the girl's hand as they approached me. "Give it up," Teresa had told me as they passed. "As long as this girl is in my care, I cannot be killed."

I, Irene, had been promoted back to my spot as number 2 in the Organization. I had been promoted in the worst way possible; I witnessed the death of the woman who took my place, and it was not by my own hands.

I, Irene, had been hardened to life as a Claymore. After I was given my symbol, I vowed to never shed another tear. I learned how to ignore the incredible evil that pulsed deep within me and how to shake off the death of a comrade. It wasn't until that day that I broke my vow. A tear rolled down my cheek, dropping to the blood soaked ground beneath me. Another fell after it, and then another. Soon, my face was buried in my arms in an attempt to muffle my sobs.

Was I mourning? Not at all. I never cared for Priscilla much. I cried because I felt helpless, over-estimated and violated. One thing was for certain: Teresa would never pay for her "crime" against humanity.

* * *

"What is your excuse, Irene?"

I looked him straight in the eyes, keeping my posture dignified. Rather than using the conference room, we talked in one of the many dark and dreary hallways of the Organization headquarters. Noel and Sophia stood behind me, and I could feel the agitation between them. "We overestimated Teresa's abilities." I told him simply. What else was there to say?

"Tell me," The man put his hands behind his back in a formal gesture that was almost warrior-like. "Be honest, now. Do you think we have any chance of defeating Teresa?"

"No matter how many skilled warriors we send after her, the results will always be the same."

"Are you sure about that?"

A shudder ran down my back at the question; it meant an error had been made on my part. I had been asked that countless times when I sparred with Teresa. Oh, yes, I remember those battles well.

"_Are you sure about that?" Teresa asked, after my blade collided with hers. I cursed under my breath, realizing that I had left a spot open for an incoming attack. Before I could react, Teresa pulled her blade away, using my unbalanced posture to her advantage, knocking the heavy claymore out of my hand. I felt the slight sting of the tip of her sword against my throat, and she smiled at me. Even back then, during training, she had been called Teresa of the Faint Smile. _

"Yes," I finally said, knowing my answer would not make a difference in his opinion.

"Really," Rumito said, scowling at me. There were a few moments of silence, before he spoke again. "All three of you can take two days off to rest. You look like you were dragged in by wolves."

Indeed, we did, with our tattered, war torn uniforms. As the four of us went out separate ways, I knew another battle was coming. Fear started in my chest and spread outwards, coiling itself around me like a hungry snake. Another battle with Teresa lay ahead. I could feel it.

* * *

I dreamt of her that night, which was a rather odd occurrence. Remembering dreams had never been something I was able to do, even as a child. In a way, it made sense. Teresa was someone who could never be forgotten so, naturally, a dream that contained her probably wouldn't be forgotten, either.  
The dream was about when I had first arrived at the Organization. After the horrid operation where yoma flesh and blood was placed inside me, I was put in a cell with several other young girls. They were all huddled together, sharing bits of food they had stored and sobbing on each other's shoulders. All of them were so tight-knit that I was afraid to approach them. I sat with my back pressed against the bars of the cell, my legs tucked in neatly under me. "Oi," someone said, and I rolled my heavy head toward the source. A girl about my age had crawled from the other end of the room, and was on her hands and knees before me. I blinked, studying her warily. Hair hung from her scalp in wavy locks, falling around her delicate shoulders. One could barely tell what color it was, since it was caked with dried blood and dirt. "What's your name?" she asked, smiling.

"I… I-Irene," I told her. It felt strange talking. My throat was hoarse and I could barely get my mouth to voice my own name.

"Nice to meet you, Irene." The girl held out a dirty, scarred hand toward mine. "My name is Teresa." Carefully, I extended my hand forward, slipping it into hers. She grasped it tightly, shaking it up and down. Her hand was rough and calloused, reminding me of sandpaper. Would my hands become this rough? "Ya know, I have some bread left over from my last meal. Want some?"

"That would be… lovely." I said, appreciating the kindness she showed toward me, a total stranger.

Teresa scuttled away into the darkness, returning with a small hunk of bread. She tore it in half, handing part of it to me. I took it, thanking her before I bit into it. The bread was stale, but I didn't care. I was so incredibly hungry.

That was when the dream ended, and I woke. I sat there, peering into the darkness around me, comforted only by the cold sword behind me. Did I really want Teresa dead? A sigh left my chapped and bleeding lips. I did not. Teresa was my first friend within the Organization. Given the opportunity, I wouldn't have the balls to behead her. Then, a strange thought crossed my mind. Would I get away with abandoning the Organization, just as Teresa had done?

My fingers rested on my emblem, tracing it robotically. Teresa, or the Organization? The question was not difficult. Making up my mind, I pulled my blade out of the ground as I stood.

"What… what are ya doin, Irene?" Noel asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

"I'm going for a walk," I lied. "I'll be back shortly." I returned my claymore to its sheath, walking out of the doorway and towards freedom. The few low ranked warriors that were present saw my mark and didn't dare stop me. My march towards freedom was a peaceful one.


	2. Chapter 2

Teresa couldn't sleep that night. All she could think about was the sobs and pleas of the novice warrior before she died; how she was relatively uninjured, but frozen in terror. There was blood… so much blood. Why did Priscilla's death haunt her so? It made the blond frustrated, and she fidgeted on the worn mattress. The death of a fellow warrior usually didn't bother her this much, especially when that warrior was after her head. When the woman's eyes traveled to the sleeping girl next to her, she knew why. Priscilla reminded her of Clare.

* * *

Out of all the places Teresa could have went into hiding, she picked a little town called Leabon. It was the remains of a viscous yoma attack, so naturally, a good portion of the town had been scared away to other parts of the continent. The only humans that remained were the poor who could not afford to leave. My presence was not welcome. Sickly looking humans in torn rags shied away from me, like they were frightened horses and I was a mountain lion on the prowl. One brave soul actually threw a glass bottle at my head, but it was smashed to bits by my quicksword before it had a chance to hit me. I did not see the man or woman who threw it.

What I did see was Teresa standing against an abandoned shop, her arms crossed in front of her chest, head bowed like she was napping. She wore a dark blue cloak, its hood drawn over her head, leaving only her eyes visible. When I approached, she raised her head. Her silver eyes seemed to twinkle in the faint morning sunlight; she had been expecting me.

"They sent you here alone, Irene?" Teresa asked, tilting her head to the side.

"No one sent me," I replied, holding my hands up, like I was surrendering. "I came here on my own free will."

"Ms. Goody-two-shoes, abandoning the Organization?" Those piercing eyes of hers narrowed. "I don't believe it. This is a trap."

"Teresa, why would I—" I could not finish my sentence, for Teresa flung off her cloak, revealing the oh so familiar uniform beneath. Her sword was drawn in a flash and she sped toward me. She swung at my neck, and I managed to block the blow. Again, and again, she swung her sword at me. I managed to keep up with her as we danced the dance of war. I don't suppose you've tried it, have you? The steps are complicated and unpredictable. You dance to no music, only the beating of your own heart and the movement of your partner.

My opponent gave up on trying to rush me after I blocked and dodged all of her speedy attacks flawlessly. Teresa paused for a moment, readying herself, before she swung her blade at me with all her might. It was aimed for my stomach, so I had trouble dodging it. I jumped, the mighty sword scraping against the steel of my boots. While I was in the air, I kicked at Teresa, using my yoki powers to move them, much like I would my quicksword. She dodged all of my kicks, waiting for me to land before she attacked again.

Teresa continued to use force instead of speed. Each swipe of her sword seemed stronger than the last; it was getting harder for me to push her blade away. I felt sweat accumulate on my forehead at the effort of blocking and dodging her powerful attacks. She aimed for my shoulder, forcing me to block her with my sword at an awkward angle. Teresa used my posture to her advantage, putting all of her weight into the sword. My breath came in short gasps as I tried to keep her blade off of me. After we had been standing there, trying to overpower each other for what felt like hours, she gave one last powerful shove, and I was flung backwards, landing on my back and skidding down the street.

The blonde charged after me, jumping into the air like a cougar, her sword aimed at my stomach. I barely had time to rise into a sitting position and hold up my blade, slamming the flat of it against Teresa's shoulder several times. It was enough to throw her off course, and she landed next to me. She stumbled, but recovered quickly. After I stood, ignoring the sudden pain in the back of my head, I unleashed a massive amount of yoki into my right arm, my sword coming to life in my hand. My quicksword didn't have any effect on Teresa; it never did. Her blocks and counter attacks became just as fast as my swipes, our swords meeting again and again. Sparks flew and the metal of our weapons seemed to sing as they collided with one another.

As I was getting slower, Teresa was getting faster. When I realized this, I grew frustrated and agitated. I usually have a relaxed temperament, even in combat. Against Teresa, it's a whole different story. Fire burned within me when I sparred or fought with her; a desire to be stronger than my friend. When I fought her that day, I forgot that I originally approached her with peaceful intentions. Now, I wanted to fight. I wanted to win. Hell, one wound would have been enough to quench the new flame burning in my belly. Just a little crimson blood on her clothing, and I would have been satisfied.

Winning against Teresa is a foolish dream with no hope of coming true, nothing more.

Teresa's sword met mine with a sudden, incredible force, stopping my quick string of attacks right in their tracks. I forced myself to meet her gaze. Even though her lips weren't smiling, her eyes were. She was toying with me, testing me just like she was the last time. Her sword suddenly changed its position, going downward in a swift motion that knocked my own blade out of my hand. Time moved in slow motion then. I watched in horror as my claymore fell, the flat of the blade slamming into the stone of the road. Teresa pointed her sword at me so it rested on my shoulder, and I felt the edge of the sharp blade against my neck.

Right then and there, she could have beheaded me. For a moment, I thought she was going to. But she didn't. Teresa seemed distracted, furrowing her eyebrows as she contemplated something. It didn't take me long to realize what was bothering her. There was a yoma transforming in the building to our right, which happened to be an inn. I guessed that it was the same inn Teresa, and that human girl, were staying in. The woman released a steady stream of air from her lungs, before she finished me.

The cold metal broke through my steel pauldron, slicing into my flesh. I bit my lip in agony as it moved through my shoulder, my chest and finally came out of my side, which produced a massive wound across my body. Consumed by pain, I fell to the ground, not bothering to hold my hands out to catch myself. I landed on my face. Yes, the result as been the same as the last time. I felt my blood leave me, soaking into the ground. In the distance, I could feel the yoki aura of the yoma fade. Teresa may, occasionally, waste her time and play with fellow warriors, but not with monsters.

Some time later, I felt her standing over me, but I was too ashamed to look up. "Irene," she said, after she had been standing there for quite some time. "Are you really going to let yourself bleed to death?" When I didn't answer, she continued to speak. "That's not a very honorable way to die, you know. It's almost like suicide, seeing as that wound is something a number 2 could repair easily. Even if that number 2 is an offensive type."

It was then that I tilted my head, gazing up at her. That girl was beside her, her arms wrapped around Teresa's muscular thigh, her face pressed against her. The human didn't like the sight of blood. "That's it," Teresa encouraged me as I moved my arms, pushing myself up into a kneeling position. "You can do it, Irene. Things like this shouldn't be such a problem for you."

With a grunt, I released my yoki in a stream of blue light. My eyes closed at the sting of my wounds healing themselves. When the pain stopped, I ended the contact with my yoki energy, managing to keep myself from shivering when the burst of power left me so suddenly. Unconsciously, my gloved fingers traveled down the strip of bare skin that was left, picking of the layer of blood that clung to it. "You need new clothes," Teresa observed as I stood. "But you won't find any in this town. It's quite sad, really. No one here sells clothing, or bothers to go looking for anything new to wear."

"Teresa," I said, but she didn't seem to hear me.

"I asked some shady looking man where I could buy clothes and he laughed at me! I was humiliated." She shook her head, her blond waves bouncing around her. "It's only in situations like this that I pity humans."

"Teresa," I repeated, louder this time. The woman stopped babbling, her eyes widening with the realization that a potential enemy stood before her, who was now perfectly capable of attacking. Her hand flew back to the hilt of her sword, readying herself. "I don't want to fight, Teresa. I never wanted to…"

"Never wanted to?" Teresa smiled at me. "You seemed pretty absorbed in that little brawl there. Especially for someone who wasn't here to behead me."

I felt my face grow hot, and I hoped it didn't show on my cheeks. "I was just trying to defend myself."

"Mmm, you're right. You were holding back near the beginning of the battle." Teresa paused, patting the girl's head before she spoke again. "You wanted to travel with us, right?"

"Yes," I replied, nodding my head.

"May I ask why?" asked Teresa, the smile, slowly, vanishing from her lips.

I took in a deep breath, filling my lungs with air. I held it there for a moment, before exhaling. "I don't think I could ever kill you, Teresa. I was just doing my job when I was with the other three warriors… I knew if I didn't, I would surely be killed. But, when the fight was over, I realized that my mission was an impossible one. You're my best friend. Losing my life is better than taking yours, that's why I'm here right now. I want to help you defy the Organization."

Then, Teresa made a gesture she hasn't done since she received her symbol. She embraced me, pulling away from the small child and wrapping her arms around my waist. Her head rested on my bare shoulder, breathing onto the exposed skin. "I'm glad," she said, her voice muffled. "I don't think I could have killed you either. Even wounding you was hard for me to do."

Her sudden embrace surprised me, but I managed to pat her back reassuringly. I caught her scent; she smelled of the forest, where I'm sure she'd been sleeping for quite some time. We stood there for awhile, comforted by each other's presence. It was Teresa who pulled away, her hand lingering on my shoulder for a moment, before she withdrew it. "We best be getting on our way," she said. When the human girl returned to her side once again, she looked down at her. "Clare, I would like you to meet Irene. She's a very dear friend of mine."

Clare looked up at me shyly. "Hello, Irene," she said weakly, intimidated by me. She was a pretty little thing, who couldn't be much older than eleven years old. The girl had lost her baby fat, but hadn't yet reached the awkward stage where she began the transformation into a woman.

"It's nice to meet you, Clare." I held out my hand. She hesitated, studying me carefully with those huge brown eyes. Eventually, our hands met, hers lying limp in my grasp. I shook it briefly, before letting her pull it away.

"We best be on our way. It would be rude to stay here much longer, after the trouble we've caused." Teresa said, gesturing toward the faces that were pressed against windows, bearing looks of hatred. And so, our small party departed, heading towards the stretch of plain beyond the town borders.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **I've been working on this a lot, since I've temporarily abandoned my "novel," due to the fact I have to do painful amounts of research for it to be successful. I probably would have had this chapter up sooner, if I wasn't spending so much time try to point out the genius of Wicked and _Raise Your Glass_ by P!nk to a certain few individuals. Anyway, I forgot to mention this, but if you see any major typos, plot holes or odd sounding sentences, please let me know so I can fix it. I feed off of constructive criticism. Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

"The girl needs more meat." I observed as Teresa approached me, carrying a bundle of dry wood. Clare trailed behind her, struggling with a bundle that was almost as big as Teresa's. It was endearing, the way the little human followed my friend around like a baby chick. The only things missing were the beak and feathers. "She needs to keep her strength up, especially with this lifestyle."

Teresa dumped the wood into the fire pit I made, glancing at Clare afterwards. The girl let out a grunt as she dumped her pile onto Teresa's. Sweat clung to her brow, which she wiped away with the back of her hand, looking up at Teresa for approval. "Nah, she's fine." The blonde said, patting Clare on the head, a new habit she had fallen into. She sat down on the opposite side of the fire pit and Clare joined her.

"Look at her," I snapped. "I'm surprised she's even capable of standing! She's as pale as a ghost."

"Irene, you have the maternal instincts of a fish." Teresa responded, an amused smile creeping onto her lips. "Trust me, a change in her diet isn't necessary."

"Actually, some breeds of fish make very good parents." I retorted, which made the blonde's eyes roll.

"This isn't the right time to be rambling about biology." Teresa rebuked, waving a finger at me. "You have work to do."

"What have you been feeding her, anyway?" I asked, peeling the bark off of two twigs so I could get the fire started.

"Mostly fruits and berries. Once and awhile I'll find a rabbit or a bird for her to eat."

"That's it?" My gaze lifted from my work and I raised an eyebrow at Teresa, giving myself a strict appearance. "How often is 'one and awhile'?"

Teresa paled a bit, nibbling on her bottom lip. "Uh, well…"

"You have no idea." I concluded, crossing my arms. If I couldn't beat Teresa in a fight with swords, I cold beat her in a fight with words. My friend nodded.

"Well, I'm sure it's still enough." Teresa continued to be a stubborn mule, crossing her own arms as if to imitate me.

"It is _not_ enough. A girl her age putting up with this much physical labor needs at least one serving of meat a day." I said, narrowing my eyes at her. "You know, I'm beginning to think that you're just too lazy to hunt for Clare."

That did the trick. Teresa uncrossed her arms and stood, her eyes flashing at the realization she'd been challenged. "Alright, alright, I'll find the biggest damn wild turkey and kill it, so we can dry it out and package it. Then the child will have plenty of meat on our travels." The woman removed the sword from her back, slamming it into the leaf littered ground next to her. "Look, I'll even do it without my sword! Happy?"

"How heroic of you," I taunted, causing Teresa to groan in annoyance and march off into the distance. "Stay," I told Clare, who was preparing to stand up and follow Teresa. "You'll just get in her way. Come here, I'll teach you how to build a fire."

I had only been traveling with the two of them for three days, so Clare was still cautious of me. She hesitated, eyeing me carefully before she crawled around the fire pit, sitting next to me on the long. Teresa had suggested that I spend more time with her, but the chance didn't appear until that moment. Removing my gloves, I explained to the girl that if you peeled the bark off of two dry sticks, you could start a flame by creating friction between them. That is, if you didn't have any glass available. I also told her that it would be hard work for a human like herself, but effortless for a half-yoma. I released a small burst of yoki into my right arm, and the two twigs in my hand produced a spark within seconds. It caught on the pile of wood Clare and Teresa had brought, slowly building into a fire.

Clare watched in amazement as I breathed life into the tiny flame, causing smoke to rise from the pile and disappear into the afternoon air. "Simple, isn't it?" I said and Clare nodded. We both lifted our heads at a cry in the distance that made a flock of birds depart from the tree they were roosting in. It seemed to worry Clare, who instantly knew it was Teresa who had let out that cry. I simply just smiled at her. "Don't worry, she's just frustrated. Killing turkeys without a sword isn't an easy task. If she was in any real trouble, I would know, so don't worry."

The girl nodded again, not the least bit reassured by my words. She seemed to lose interest in the growing fire and was looking into the distance, fidgeting on the log. I noticed that she was chewing on her bottom lip, just like Teresa. "How long have you known Teresa, Clare?" I asked her. She turned her head toward me, looking as if she had forgotten I was there.

"I don't know," she said simply. "Neither one of us has kept track of time." When she was done speaking, she turned her head away to look into the distance, staring at the brush as if she could will Teresa to come back unscathed.

Teresa did, eventually, return about an hour later, carrying a turkey on her shoulder. Her whole right arm was covered in little scratches that were already starting to heal themselves. "Teresa," Clare called out at the sight of blood on her clothing. She stood up, running over to her and wrapping her twig-like arms around the warrior's waste. "You're bleeding!"

"Yes, but I'll survive." The woman replied in a comforting voice. "You couldn't imagine how strong this little booger's neck was. Its talons were razor sharp, too."

"Congratulations," I said upon Teresa's arrival, causing her to swell with pride. She dropped the dead bird at my feet and sat next to me, rubbing her hands over the warm fire. Clare sat next her, resting her delicate little head in Teresa's lap. I could have sworn that when the girl looked up at me for a brief moment, there was a look of hatred in her eyes.

It took me until nightfall, but I managed to get the huge bird gutted and cooked. It was a gruesome task and undignified task, shoving my hand into a corpse and pulling out handful after handful of guts and gore. I've had to tend to festered wounds before, but nothing could compare to the foul stench of the freshly dead animal. For a moment, I wondered if the bird had eaten something that had made it sick. Telling Teresa that the meat from the turkey would be hazardous to Clare's health might have gotten me out of cooking it, but then I reminded myself that it didn't matter of the thing was diseased or not. If I prepared it properly, the sickness would be cooked out of it. Teresa probably knew that; she wasn't completely clueless.

After the turkey had been rotating on spit over the fire for a couple hours, and I tasted the meat myself, I announced that the bird was ready to be eaten. Clare boldly crept forward, ripping a leg off of the turkey and holding it to her small mouth. The girl ate like she hadn't been fed in weeks, not bothering to wipe away the juice that spilled down her chin while she ate. The idea of chewing with her mouth closed seemed foreign to her, the way she gnawed and chewed like a savage. I looked up at Teresa with a questioning look, who didn't seemed bothered by this at all. Well, so much for teaching the girl manors. Then again, in our situation, table manors were the least of our concerns.

Teresa helped herself to a small amount of the bird, peeling off a bit of skin and popping it into her mouth. "I never knew that you could cook," Teresa mused, licking the juice from her pale fingers.

I shrugged, picking out a small piece of meat for myself. "I can't cook anything fancy, as you can probably tell."

"Who said good food has to be fancy?" Teresa smiled at me, sliding off of the log and resting her head on my knee, sighing contently afterwards.

I brushed a lock of hair out of her face, to find that her eyes were closed. She looked stoic and serine in that moment, perfectly relaxed. It was hard to believe we had been after each other's heads just days before. When I managed to tear my gaze away from her to look up at Clare, I noticed she had stopped eating. In fact, she was staring at me. Her expression was hard to read, which I didn't think was possible for a human. I was only certain about one thing in that look she gave me; there was hint of jealously in those round eyes of hers.

* * *

Clare was asleep by the time I started cutting and drying the meat. In fact, Teresa was sound asleep as well, her head resting on the log where I was previously sitting. She tended to snore, and the night was no exception. There was also a line of drool creeping out from in between her lips, running down her chin and dripping onto the log beneath her head. Teresa, like most of our kind, didn't sleep often. When she did, the world could be ending and she wouldn't even stir. By the time I was finished wrapping the meat up, I heard Teresa's breathing quicken. Sure enough, when I looked back at her, I was greeted with the shine of her silver eyes.

"Irene," she said sleepily, stretching like a cat before sitting upright on the log. "You haven't gotten any sleep since you've joined us. Aren't you tired?"

"A bit," I admitted, crouching next to her. "But someone has to keep watch."

"Nah," Teresa yawned. "If anything with a yoki aura approaches us, I'll know."

"And wake up to fight it? I doubt it," I teased and Teresa punched my shoulder playfully.

"We need to discuss where we're going." Teresa said after a few moments of relaxed silence. "If we keep going east at this pace, we'll reach the ocean in a week."

"I don't see why we can't just stay in the east. All the lower ranked warriors are placed here and there's more wilderness than towns."

"That's the problem," she sighed. "I don't like having Clare sleep on the ground every night. All the towns out here are in poverty and aren't good places for a girl her age."

"Alright, then," The two of us remained silent for a while, thinking. Going west wasn't a good idea; we would run right back into the clutches of the Organization. "How about south?" I thought out loud. The folks there are filthy rich and we can afford to stay there for awhile. Not to mention that the scenery is beautiful, well, at least from what I've heard."

Teresa shook her head. "That previous number 1 is still fighting to make her home there. What was her name… Luciela? The higher ranked warriors keep being sent there to spy on her. Surely, if we're there long enough, we'll be noticed."

"True," I said. There was only one option left, and it was one that I didn't approve of.

"North," Teresa pointed out the obvious. "Back to your homeland."

Her eyes turned sympathetic when she saw the distaste in my expression. The northern lands were, indeed, where I was born. I lived with a small wandering tribe when I was a girl. They were the rejects of society, for both their looks and their customs. My people were fair-haired with pale skin and pointed ears. They were pagans and worshiped a series of nature gods. The worship of any other deities besides the God of Rabona was frowned upon, which led to their exile. No one in my tribe seemed to mind, though. We embraced the harsh winter elements and the struggle to survive, believing it brought us closer to our gods. It was from my people that I learned to treat wounds and ailments, a knowledge which has stayed with me since then. Normally, anyone would be glad to go back to their people, but I wasn't. To be honest, I wasn't sure if any of them were still alive.

When the pair of yoma came to our camp, I was almost of age and I had been promised to a young man I barely knew. Hell, I can't even remember his name. From what I do remember, he was wild and reckless, a born leader; while I was shy and spent most of my time alone, reading my mother's field notes. The monsters that came didn't leave many alive. I returned home to find both of my parents dead, their bodies mangled, bloody and gutted. When I fled the tent I found them in, my husband to be approached me. Stupidly, I ran into his arms, sobbing and trying to voice what happened through a flood of tears and snot. With my head buried in his hard chest, I noticed the prick of claws against my back. When I looked up, I was staring at the face of a monster. It was him; he was the one who killed my parents.

My husband to be took advantage of me, right there in the snow. I struggled, at first, but when he threatened me with death, I forced myself to grow still and not make a sound. A silver eyed witch rescued me, beheading the yoma while he was busy pleasing himself with my body. She must have felt some sympathy for me, seeing as she tore off her cape and wrapped it around me. I was carried south, drifting in and out of nightmare consumed unconsciousness and tear filled consciousness. I was dumped into the arms of the organization, where I was made into what I am today. Going back to my homeland would resurface those awful feelings of terror and helplessness.

"I'm sorry," Teresa whispered, who knew the tale of my girlhood. "I know it's a hard thing for you to do, but I don't see another option."

I tilted my head upward, toward the ink black sky and the bright stars. With a barely audible sigh, I reminded myself that I had to be strong; strong for the memory of my parents, and for Teresa. "It's alright," I murmured. "Like you said, there isn't another option. I'll just have to grit my teeth and deal with it."

Once again, Teresa wrapped her arms around me, nuzzling her face into the crook of my neck. "Thank you," she said with her voice muffled. She remained like that for awhile, and for a moment, I wondered if she was starting to fall back asleep. Eventually, she pulled away, her gaze meeting mine. "Get some rest," she said. "I'll keep watch tonight."

For the first time in a week, I slept a dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Bleh, this chapter is a bit dull, but oh well. I promise I'll have more action in the next one. Happy reading :)

* * *

Noel had never been so bored in her entire life. Being number 4, she was used to being overloaded with tasks that had to be completed. There was always something that she had to do, but she didn't mind. In fact, she rather enjoyed her busy life. A sudden change in plans took place, though. She and Sophia were ordered to stay at the Organization headquarters while the mess with Teresa and Irene was cleaned up. Both of them were kept in the same room and almost never had time to themselves; it was almost as if the Organization was making sure they didn't run off to join Irene and Teresa.

Lack of activity was, literally, driving Noel insane. The spiky haired warrior paced back and forth, gnawing on her bottom lip and mumbling to herself. She desperately wanted to break out of that awful room, but she felt men from the Organization just outside the door. If she left, she would most likely be punished. "Damn it," the warrior swore, balling her hand into a fist and punching the stone wall, making a small dent. The woman flinched at the pain it caused to her knuckles, glaring at her bony hand, almost as if she was accusing it of damaging itself.

"Noel," Sophia said gently, who had been watching her rival and was rather amused by the display. "Stop acting like such a child. Come, sit next to me and we can pass the time with conversation."

The woman looked up from her hand, squinting at Sophia in the darkness. "Doesn't this bother you?" Noel snarled, and Sophia could feel a rush of anger taint her yoki aura. "They're treating us like prisoners for something we had nothing to do with!"

"Not quite," Sophia replied in an even tone. "We were expected to stop Irene. After all, we were staying in the same room that she was."

This seemed to anger Noel even further. "What, we're supposed to read the minds of those bastards?" She was shouting now, turning her frame so she faced Sophia. "They're punishing us for an accident! Doesn't that piss you off?"

Sophia shook her head. "Those bastards are our superiors. Getting angry at them isn't going to make a difference to the situation."

Noel paused, searching for something to say. When she couldn't find any words, she groaned in frustration and punched the wall again, following it up with a kick when her hand stung again after the impact. Her steel boot dented the wall further and Noel turned away from it, swearing like a sailor at things Sophia couldn't comprehend. By nightfall, the rambunctious little ferret of a warrior had worn herself out, grumbling as she plopped down in an ungraceful manner next to Sophia.

"What should we do?" Sophia asked after an uncomfortable silence stretched between them. "I don't think either one of us wants to stay here anymore."

"They'll hear you," Noel said, nodding toward the door.

"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." Sophia managed a playful grin to match her light tone.

"Well," Noel shut her eyes, sighing. "Neither one of us is skilled at reading yoki auras, so we won't be able to find Teresa and Irene. Not if they're so far away."

"I have a general idea of where they went, though." Sophia said in a whisper, so the men outside couldn't hear her. Noel raised her head in curiosity. "North is the only logical option they had. The east is in poverty and too predictable of a location, the south is too dangerous and if they went west, they'd be too close to the Organization."

"Ew," Noel's face wrinkled in disgust at the thought of all that snow. "I would've taken my chances with the south."

"Well, what do you think?" Sophia asked, raising an eyebrow at Noel. "Should we join our superiors in their rebellion?"

"They'll kill us," muttered Noel, referring to both their ex-comrades and the Organization.

"We all have to die sometime." Sophia pointed out and Noel managed to nod in agreement.

"Alright," Noel said in a hushed voice. "But not now. Not like this."

Sophia tilted her head to the side. "How do you mean?"

"You're all questions today," Noel snorted, but answered her question. "I don't want to escape like a caged guinea pig. We'll just get stepped on afterwards."

"You have a point. We're not as strong as Teresa and Irene, so they won't hesitate to strike us down… On our next mission, we'll just disappear… we'll think up a meeting spot, then set out to find them."

The two comrades looked at each other, not saying a word. Instead, a silent pact was made between them.

* * *

"This place is fancy," Teresa commented on the room that was offered to us by the innkeeper. It wasn't much, really, but it was better than a lot of the places I've had to sleep in. I'm sure the same applied to Teresa. There were two beds placed on the left wall, leaving only a few feet of room between them. The walls were white, but the bright noon sunlight gave them a cheerful yellow glow. What surprised me was that the floor was carpeted, something I've never experienced in my years as a half-breed slave of the Organization. I had the sudden urge to take off my boots and prance around on it, feeling the soft red fibers underneath my bare feet. There were also a few paintings and a night stand in between the beds, but I paid no attention to them. As silly as it sounds, the carpet caught almost all of my attention.

When I didn't budge from the doorway, Teresa gently brushed past me, taking Clare with her. She cast me a questioning look before sitting down on one of the beds, unsheathing her sword and placing it on the floor next to the bed she chose. Clare joined her on the bed, curling up next to the warrior like a cat settling down for an afternoon nap. Eventually, I strode inside, ridding myself of the sword on my back and the steel contraptions I wore out of habit. When I was positive Teresa wasn't looking in my direction, I quietly slipped my feet out of my boots, running my soles over the carpet as I approached the free bed. The corners of my mouth twisted upward against my will at the foolishness of the situation. Quicksword Irene, transfixed by an old carpet. Oh, how my ex-comrades would laugh if they found out.

"My, you seem awfully cheerful." Teresa's voice instantly snapped my lips back into their emotive form. I looked up at her, not knowing how to respond to her comment. "I know that we just got here… but can you run downstairs and request a meal for Clare? Her stomach is starting to growl."

The girl lifted her head at the mention of her name, blinking up at Teresa. Indeed, her stomach was starting to make some awful noises. "Alright," I sighed, rising up from the soft bed and making my way downstairs. Even though it was the middle of the day, the bar downstairs was packed with people. When I reached the bottom landing, the buzz of conversation instantly died down. A sea of wide eyes and pale faces sat before me, causing me to lower my eyelids in annoyance. I may be a monster, but I am, in fact, part human. Why they can't understand that, I will never know.

I pretended that the sudden change in moods didn't bother me and approached the counter. The bartender, a woman dressed in black, sucked up the courage to inch toward me so she could take my order. "Could I get a noontide meal that I could take upstairs?" I asked, and the startled woman nodded. Shakily, she opened one of the cabinets, drawing out some packaged bread. Her movements were almost robotic as she put together a tray of food, which consisted of fresh bread, cheese and fruit.

"Here you go," she said in a rush, pushing the tray across the polished countertop.

"Thank you," I said coldly, picking up the tray and stalking toward the stairs. On my way there, a young man sitting at one of the many tables stuck out his leg, as if he was attempting to trip me. I let my leg make contact with his, pressing them together before I moved my foot upward in a brisk motion. He yelped as he was yanked out of his chair, falling on his back. Before he could make another move, I rested my bare foot on his chest, glaring down at him. The stink of alcohol clung to him and his eyes appeared glazed and empty. He looked back up at me with that dull look, sneering at me after awhile.

"P-please, miss," said a male voice behind me. "He's drunk, he doesn't know any better."

I turned my head to meet the eyes of the middle aged man who spoke. He was trembling and was obviously a bit more sober than the idiot beneath my foot. With a grunt, I removed my foot, kicking the drunk in the side before I returned to Teresa and Clare.

Teresa and I slipped out of the room when Clare fell asleep with a full belly. We ventured outside and into the marketplace to get supplies for our journey. Splitting up would have saved us some time, but Teresa insisted on staying by my side. Even though we wore our cloaks, the humans still recognized us as claymores, the chatter quickly dying away when the word was spread. Wherever we went, we were given plenty of space to do our shopping. No matter how thick the crowd was, the mass of bodies parted for us.

"Something's troubling you," Teresa commented when we entered a women's clothing store. "I felt a disruption in your yoki when you were getting food for Clare."

I pretended to be busy looking at the display of clothing before us, trying to avoid the discussion. I snatched a rather appealing leather outfit off of a table, holding it out at arms length. It was a little revealing and complex, with dozens of belts strapped everywhere. I turned it over to look at the price tag, and instantly regretted picking it up. Had it been just Teresa and I, we could have afforded it. But, Clare was a growing girl, and growing human beings usually came with their own price tag.

"Oh, go try it on," Teresa said, making me turn my head to look at her in astonishment. "It's not like we'll need a lot of money up north."

"Alright, then," I said, turning away to approach the dressing rooms. That's when I felt Teresa's hands on my shoulders. She turned me around, backing me into a wall. I flinched at the sudden aggression, forcing myself to meet her piercing gaze.

"But I won't let you until you tell me what's wrong," she whispered, pulling herself dangerously close to me.

"Teresa, there are humans watching." I protested, looking at the small group of people that was inside the shop.

One of her hands abandoned my shoulder and grasped my chin, forcing my eyes back toward hers. They demanded an answer; she didn't need to speak another word. I swallowed, then answered her question. "I've just been frustrated with the humans in this city, that's all."

"There, see, that wasn't so bad." Teresa said, letting go of me. "It won't kill you to confess your feelings once and awhile."

I rubbed my shoulder—which was sore from her tight grip—while trying to maintain my composer.

"There's nothing we can do about it, Irene. We just have to live with it." Teresa said, casting me a sad smile.

"That's what's getting me frustrated," I confessed, turning away from her once again. "I'll be back."

I disappeared into the back of the shop, where the dressing rooms were. I fumbled with my new outfit for awhile, making sure all of the belts were in the right place, before I emerged. "Ooo, that suits you," Teresa commented when I sauntered over to her. She had a loose pair of pants draped over her arm and was in the process of picking out a blouse.

"It's a little…" My voice trailed off when I looked down at my bare thighs, searching for the right word. "Awkward."

"It might feel awkward, but it doesn't look awkward. Take a look at yourself." Teresa nodded toward a mirror that was placed against the far wall, and I obeyed. I barely recognized myself. Even though it showed quite a bit of flesh, it somehow seemed more dignified than the skin tight uniform I had been forced to wear all these years. My hand traveled from my collar bone, down to my stomach, running along the smooth leather. I looked lost without the cross plastered on my neck, but the feeling didn't last long. My appearance shifted from lost to roguish the longer I stared. Teresa was right; it did suit me, especially in the situation we were in.

Teresa's head popped up behind me in the mirror. "Well, what do you think?"

I turned around to look at her to find that she was wearing the pants I saw earlier, as well as a matching blouse. Both of them were dull gray in color, almost resembling her uniform. "Old habits die hard, eh? I couldn't see myself wearing anything else." I stepped aside so she could examine herself in the mirror, her lips curling into a frown when she saw her reflection. "It's sad that this is the only thing that looks good on me. Ah, well, at least it's comfortable enough for combat."

"I'm sure there are plenty of other things that suit you, you just haven't found them yet." I said reassuringly.

Teresa sighed and shook her head. "If there is, we won't find it in this store. Lets go buy these and go back to Clare. Then maybe we can get some rest. We'll reach the mountains tomorrow."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Wow, it feels like such a long time since my last update. My creative bug has crawled off into the snow somewhere and died, I'm afraid. It tends to do that during winter break. I've done absolutely nothing productive over my break. Nothing. I've made a couple of attempts at studying for finals, but none of them have been successful. I'm also trying to decide what foreign language I should take next year. Like hell I'm taking Spanish, every other person takes Spanish. Besides, I know enough to get my point across... yo no hablo espanol, por favor hable en Ingles... or something like that. That leaves French or German... French is supposed to be a pain in the butt to learn, while German is the closest language to English. French is pretty, German is angry and barbaric-sounding. I should flip a coin or I'm never going to decide. Why can't they have Gaelic classes? I want to learn Gaelic, it's sooo sexy. Bleh, I'm rambling. Anyway, I hope you've all had a merry Christmas, Hanuka, Solstice, Kwanzaa or whatever it is that you celebrate. I'm sorry that this chapter is kinda short, but hey, it's better than nothing. Happy Reading :D

* * *

_Damn,_ I thought to myself, gazing up at the Awakened Being that towered over us. The creature resembled a bat/bird hybrid, with a sharp beak and membrane covered wings that clung to its side. It had no arms, only wings and a pair of legs that were attached to deadly talons. Bloodlust danced in its eyes as it opened its beak and a pink, spine covered tongue snaked out. "I'm honored," it said, and only then by its tone did I realize that it was female. "The Organizzzation sssent sssuch ssskilled warriorsss after me. No matter, your gutsss will be ssspilled sssoon." I shuddered at the way she held onto her S's, like a serpent. When she belonged to the Organization, her rank couldn't have been higher than 28, leaving a huge gap in our abilities that worked to my, and Teresa's, advantage. What worried me was the fact that her yoki had a decent chance of giving us away. We had to kill this Awakened Being quickly, before anyone could notice it.

She attacked, her tongue speeding toward me, aiming for my heart. I drew my blade, bringing it down on the ugly thing. It didn't cut all the way through, the spines that covered it made sure of that, but it was obvious that the wound I left pained her. With a low snarl, she pulled her tongue back into her mouth. Fuchsia colored blood dribbled out of her beak, falling like rain onto the stone ground. Before it had another chance to attack, Teresa dashed forward. My friend leapt into the air, clutching her claymore with two hands as it sliced into the Awakened Being's neck. The massive, feather covered head fell onto the ground, its skull cracking once it made contact. The body followed, collapsing into a crumpled heap before us.

"Nice one," I said as Teresa wiped the blood off of her sword. Clare revealed herself, crawling out from behind the boulder she chose as her hiding place. She immediately flung herself into Teresa's arms, nuzzling the woman's stomach.

"Do you think we should try hiding the body? You know, in case someone felt her yoki and decided to come looking for it." Teresa murmured, studying the corpse warily as she ran her fingers though Clare's long hair. "When they find it dead, the might assume it's our doing."

"It's a bit too big to be hidden, isn't it?"

"We could always chop it up into tiny pieces… oh, but then the blood…" Teresa garbled, biting her bottom lip.

I walked toward her, patting her on the shoulder reassuringly. "We should be fine if we hold our auras back, like we've been doing for several weeks."

The blonde sighed, absent mindedly tucking a strand of her wavy hair behind her ear. She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it. Instead of speaking, she craned her head towards the sky, just in time to witness a single white flake flutter down from the clouds and land on her nose. Teresa's worry seemed to vanish then, as we watched more snowflakes fall from the sky. I could tell Clare had never seen snow before. Her jaw dropped slightly and her green eyes widened as she watched it fall. "It's beautiful," Teresa breathed. "I can't remember the last time I saw snow."

"And you'll get sick of it in a couple of days, trust me. Especially when we have to hike through it." I said, remembering how tedious it could be to walk through a foot of snow.

"Through it?" Clare repeated. "It melts when it touches anything… why would we have to worry about going through it?"

"Oh, you'll see," Teresa patted Clare on the head, smiling. "Don't listen to grumpy old Irene, you'll love it."

I snorted to show my annoyance and then marched onward. Teresa laughed, then grasped Clare's hand and followed me through the mountains.

We settled down for the night in a cave-like scar on the side of the mountain. I volunteered to keep watch, but Teresa insisted that I needed my rest. Too worn to argue, I swallowed my pride and nodded, sitting down at the back of the cave. Clare slept next to me, curled up into a ball under a blanket of animal fur. Teresa sat at the mouth of the cave, hugging her knees to her chest and gazing up at the sky. I watched her for awhile, waiting for sleep to consume me. She looked lonely, and I considered joining her. I didn't have a chance to, for my eyelids grew heavy and I drifted down the river that is my dreamland.

* * *

I had only been awake for an hour and I was already sick of the snow. The morning was cloudless, so the sun's rays reflected off the white and untouched snow, which made my eyes ache. Clare and Teresa, however, were all smiles. The two of them chirped and giggled behind my back as we traveled, adding on to my nausea. How was it possible for anyone to be cheerful so early in the morning? At one point, Teresa and the girl got unusually quiet. I thought nothing of it, which was a mistake on my part. Moments later, a ball of snow collided with the back of my head and was followed by Teresa's laughter. I whirled around, my face in a scowl and my fists clenched. This made Teresa laugh even harder, which angered me further. Clare tried to suppress her own fit of giggles, but was unsuccessful. While Teresa was struggling to talk around bubbles of laughter, I crouched down and began molding a snowball in between my bare hands.

"—" Once Teresa had caught her breath, she spat out a string of jumbled words, which was interrupted when my snowball collided with her face. A satisfied smile crept onto my lips when Teresa had to rub snow out of her eyes, glaring at me the whole time. Thinking that my action had ended the ordeal, I turned away, only to have another snowball strike the back of my head. It turned into an all out brawl then. The two of us ducked behind separate boulder, revealing ourselves only to hurl more snow at each other. Clare was hired as Teresa's assistant, sculpting snowballs for Teresa so she could focus on throwing them at me.

When Clare's stomach started to growl around noon, Teresa surrendered so the girl could have something to eat (the pack with the food was in my possession). "That was a stupid thing for us to do," I told Teresa while we waited for Clare to finish her food. "Especially after we just killed an Awakened Being."

"It was," Teresa agreed, reaching toward me and brushing some snow off of my shoulder. "But I rather enjoyed it. It brought back some pleasant memories."

Indeed, it did. Teresa and I had been the troublemakers out of the group of warriors-in-training. She had seen no point on obeying the Organization, since she was forced there against her will. The only reason why she didn't disappear because of bad behavior was because of the potential she possessed; a potential she had no desire to catch up with. On more than one occasion, we would manage to ditch our morning drills and retreat into the forest. When one of the men in black came to retrieve us on a cold winter morning, Teresa pelted him with snowballs, before both of us ran off to find another hiding spot. He found us again an hour later and we were punished with several extra chores. Hey, at least it got us out of combat practice.

"You were actually fun to be around back then," Teresa teased and I shoved her playfully. Clare finished her food, letting out a small, lady-like burp before excusing herself. We packed up our things and got moving after that. Teresa and I carried out a conversation about our youth, something we had not done in a long time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **I would have had this up a couple of days ago, but my muse decided to run away (again... I call her my bug when I'm mad at her). I hate my muse... she always leaves when I need her the most. Recent events probably scared her away, and I don't blame her. My muse is a coward. I also made a DeviantART account a couple weeks ago. My s/n is DemonicFairyCakeX for those of you who are interested in reading my emo poetry and the unfinished crap that I know will make its way on there. Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

I had forgotten just how empty and vast my homeland was. Even though it was early spring, there was snow everywhere, and it hugged the foliage and uneven ground like a white blanket. It was a wasteland; even harsher than the desert I often had to cross to get to the Organization's headquarters. I paused, turning to look back at the footprints I had made, and shivered. Even though half-breeds aren't supposed to feel cold, I still felt it, but not in the way humans do. There was a complete absence of warmth, leaving numbness in its place. We had only, officially, been in the northern territories for less than a week, but I was already sick of the place.

Teresa and Clare were seeking shelter in the mountains, while I was headed for the nearest town. I had claimed that the food we had gotten for Clare wouldn't last much longer, and hunting wasn't an easy thing to do in this frozen kingdom. So, Teresa—who assumed I knew my way around the north—had sent me to the nearest town to get more supplies. I had no idea where the nearest town was, there was plenty of food left, and I was perfectly capable of hunting for Clare. I had another mission. Well, I couldn't exactly call it a mission. I had no destination in mind, or a plan. To put it simply, I was driven by a gnawing ache that had been growing since we had first arrived here. My only desire was to get rid of it, and move on.

I exhaled slowly, watching as my breath escaped me in the form of a cloud, and was carried off by the steady wind that pushed at my back. I turned back around, squinting as the gust of wind stung my eyes. There was a long distance to cover between me and wherever I was headed. That was all I knew.

The moon had already begun its journey across the night sky when I first saw the human footprints. Well, they appeared human at first. I followed them for awhile, and witnessed the bare human feet grow in size with every step, until I was gazing at the tracks of a monster. The tracks had taken me into a forest of pine trees, when they stopped. Signs of a fight were obvious. Hand, foot and body prints sullied the perfect white snow, along with the crimson color of blood. A corpse lay under one of the trees, so torn apart that I couldn't tell if it had been male or female. Its skull had been cracked open, its contents long gone. Bits of flesh had been scattered around from when the yoma had torn open the human's stomach. The corpse was missing its arms, leaving bloody stumps in their places. I didn't need to look around for footprints to know that the yoma had taken the human's form, and headed off to the village where its prey had come from.

Utterly disgusted, I turned to walk away, when I heard something moving. Instantly, my hand flew to the hilt of my sword, ready for whatever jumped out at me. But nothing did. "Who's there," I barked into the darkness. "Show yourself."

My only reply was the howl of the wind through the trees, and the rustle of blankets. Wait, blankets? I approached the corpse again, my eyes falling on a bundle by its side. Sure enough, something within it moved. Curiosity got the best of me, and I crouched down in front of it, slowly unwrapping the blanket. A pair of bright blue eyes gazed up at me. My body stiffened when I realized I was looking at a human child. This child wasn't just any human, either; the pointed ears on the sides of its head signaled that it belonged to what remained of my tribe. It must have belonged to the human that was slain, and the yoma forgot about it.

Instantly, I felt the need to kill it. With its parent—that I now assumed was the mother—dead and a yoma on the loose, it had little chance of survival. It would be kind to end its life now, and spare it the agony that lay waiting in the future. I couldn't make myself do it. I raised my blade over my head and it was as if someone grabbed onto it, holding it there, refusing to let me slice open the tiny human being. With a sigh, I placed my sword in the sheath on my back, rather displeased with how soft I was becoming. "Well now, what am I going to do with you, little bundle of joy?" I said, glaring down at the little creature.

Further inspection of the child wasn't needed to tell that it was male; something about its pale face just seemed masculine. He reached up with his tiny hands and made a gurgling noise, obviously wanting something. "You're hungry," I observed, catching a flicker of pain in the child's eyes. "Sorry, kid, but you're going to have to wait while I figure out what to do with you." He opened its mouth, like he was going begin crying. Before the human could make a sound, I slipped my index finger between his pink lips. The child froze for a moment, before attempting to suck milk from my finger. His eyes closed halfway, content to at least have something in his mouth.

What should I do with him? I frowned, considering the options left. I could always leave it here in the snow, so it can freeze to death, but that would be too cruel. Bringing it back with me to Teresa and Clare would be too much of an inconvenience, plus it wasn't something I wanted to deal with. Leaving it with a family in another town just didn't seem right. Deciding on one last option, I picked up the bundle, cradling it in my arms. I was extremely unhappy with what I had to do. I didn't trust myself around humans, especially children. "I don't want to hear a peep out of you," I warned the baby, who was starting to fall asleep. "If you start causing any problems, I'll be happy to leave you in the snow." I didn't know if the child understood me or not, but it wouldn't hurt to threaten him into giving me some peace and quiet. My eyes searched the darkness for the yoma's footprints, and when I found them, I proceeded to follow the path they left.

* * *

Misfortune must have hit my tribe hard while I was gone; I couldn't remember ever having guards at our camps when I was growing up. I wasn't aware that there were any, until I barely dodged and arrow to the head. After the attack, I stood perfectly still, hoping whoever shot at me would get the idea that I wasn't looking for a fight.

"Who are you and what do you want?" said a gruff, male voice. I turned to look at the man it belonged to, and replied.

"A yoma killed one of your people," I said blankly. "It took the human's form and wandered into your camp, leaving the offspring of its prey behind." I lifted up the sleeping child as proof.

"Another one, eh? Well, how do I know you're not the yoma?" the man snarled, placing another arrow on his bow and pointing it at my head. "You have the silver eyes of a half-demon, but not the uniform."

I had already thought of a solution to this situation, if it were to come up. "I'm working undercover," I lied. "The Organization is conducting a study to see if there's a pattern in the type of humans yoma slaughter. They hired me to help."

"The child. Put it down," he said, after he contemplated the situation. "Put it down and back away or I'll shoot."

Even though I could have easily deflected any arrows that were sent my way, I did as he asked, and place the child carefully in the snow at my feet, before backing away. With every step I took, the human took one too, until he reached the baby. Cautiously, he poked it with the toe of his boot. When the child didn't turn into a hideous monster and rip his head off, he picked it up, holding it close to him. "This is Aoede's child," said the man in a grave tone. "He and his siblings are orphans now. His father died last week, and according to you, the mother is now a monster… Sister, will you slay it for us? The yoma, that is. We'll pay you what we can, but it won't be much."

"I'll do it for free," I said. Without another word, I walked toward the warm glow of a campfire in the distance, where I knew their camp was. The man followed behind me.

"May I ask your name, sister?"

"Irene," I said with a harsh edge in my voice. "And I'm not your sister. I haven't been part of your tribe for years."

He seemed to ignore everything I said, accept for my name. "Irene, you were Crysanthe's daughter, weren't you? That poor woman. I remember her from when I was growing up. My father said she was brilliant, always had a cure for whatever sickness found us…"

I blocked out the rest of his babbling as a pang of longing suddenly washed over me. I missed my mother, and my father. I missed spending hours out in the snow, chasing small animals and dancing on frozen rivers. When I became aware of the fact I was standing right in front of a worn, animal skin tent, I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat, trying to clear my head of those awful, painful memories. I grasped the hilt of my sword, drawing it and holding it at my side. With a deep breath, I pushed back the flap and entered. Three humans were inside it. One was an adult woman, the yoma. She slept in the far right corner of the small tent, completely unaware of my presence. Two children slept on the other side of the tent; one boy who looked 16, and another who appeared to be Clare's age.

Before I could have second thoughts, I brought my blade down, cutting into the neck of the yoma in disguise. It screamed the moment the cold metal touched its skin, but it only lasted a moment; it was replaced with the sound of the cracking of bone as the head was detached from the neck. Almost instantly, the corpse began to transform from human into monster. The noise of the yoma's death woke both of the children.

"NO!" screamed the girl, her eyes instantly filling with tears at the sight of the monster. She glared up at me, her eyes filled with pure hatred. "You monster!" she snarled, and began to stand up so she could charge at me.

Her brother grabbed onto her, pulling her close to him. "Shhh, Ophelia. It's okay. She was only doing her job." Even though his voice was calm, his expression was far from it. Terror and sorrow was clearly visible on his face, but he remained strong, for his sister.

"Monster!" the girl continued to scream. "Monster! Monster! Monster!"

I searched for something comforting to say to the two, but I found nothing. So, I sheathed my sword and left the tent.

"Irene, you killed it?" asked the man who was waiting outside, but I ignored him. I went back the way I came, toward the mountains where Teresa and Clare were waiting for me. The ache I had was suddenly gone; like my only purpose for this ridiculous journey was to slay that yoma. I slept in the forest that night, and I dreamed of my mother.

* * *

**Fun fact of the day: **Both Ophelia and Irene are Greek names. Irene's name meaning is 'peace' and Ophelia's is 'help'. The fact that they look similar and that their names have the same origins was actually my inspiration making a new race of humans within the Claymore world. For awhile, I was worried that Teresa and Helen (also Greek names) would tear a hole in this plan, but I think it turned out just fine. So, all of the names I used are Greek. Greek names are pretty, aren't they?


	7. Chapter 7

**Authors Note: **... please don't hurt me xD I went through a long period of being lazy, then a long period of school sucking away at my attention, and then along period of family drama and having no access to a computer. Even though I have finals to study for, I should be able to post weekly from now on. Enjoy! :D

* * *

The sky was beginning to turn a bright pink as I trudged through the packed snow. My legs were stiff and sore from the effort, and I longed to lay beside a warm fire. My stomach was empty and cried out for food, but I hadn't brought any with me on my short journey. As I approached the mountains, I sensed Teresa's aura within them, vibrant in the environment that housed so little amounts of life. Hers wasn't the only aura I picked up. There were two auras approaching her, and I felt the blood drain from my face when I realized who they belonged to. Noel and Sophia.

_They've found us! _ The realization sent a jolt of panic through me, and, unsheathing my sword, I tapped into my yoki energy, which gave me a sudden burst of speed that propelled me toward the two warriors. They knew I was approaching, and instantly stopped, bracing themselves for the fight that was about to come.

I dashed up the incline of the massive rock, and I was before the two women within seconds. Screeching to a stop, I forced the yoki energy into my right arm, but before I could perform my quicksword, I noticed something unusual. Neither one of them had drawn their blades to defend themselves, and their silver colored uniforms were absent, leaving leather in their places. "We're not here for a fight, Irene," Sophia said softly.

Not trusting her words, I tightened my grip on the hilt of my sword. 'What is it, then?" I hissed, watching both of them carefully.

"We figured you two would be lonely without us," Noel said light-heartedly, to receive a whack on the back of the head from Sophia.

"Idiot," she growled, before looking me in the eyes. "We figured that fighting Teresa would be pointless, especially now, since you've rebelled with her. The Organization would drive us to our deaths if we had stayed, so, we left to find you two."

I paused, considering her words. They seemed honest, but they could have been lying. A bit uneasy, I sheathed my claymore and said, "your swords, give them to me." Noel handed me her blade without question, but Sophia seemed to be a bit more uneasy. Suppressing an inner conflict, she reluctantly handed me her sword. I held one in each hand and nodded toward the general direction of the cave where Teresa and Clare were located. They made their way toward it and I followed close behind. We didn't go very far before Teresa bounded toward us, sword in hand.

"Irene!" she gasped in relief. "I was worried about you, you were gone for so long and then these two…" her voice trailed off as she fixed her gaze on Noel and Sophia, frowning. Almost instantly, she snapped into her harsh warrior mold, leaving no trace of the concerned friend. "What are you two doing here?" she asked, her voice cold.

Sophia repeated what she told me, and Teresa held herself with the same caution that I had. "Well, then, prove it. Prove that you've really left the Organization."

"We don't have our uniforms and symbols anymore. Isn't that enough?" Noel asked, narrowing her eyes at Teresa.

"The organization held you within their headquarters," I said, changing the subject. "How did you escape?"

"We wanted to wait for when we were both given missions, but it seemed that our soul purpose was to be the leaders of an army against you two," Sophia said.

"They were putting all of their energy into creating new warriors," Noel added. "So, since we weren't allowed to leave, we waited until the activity was at a low before we stormed the place."

Teresa raised and eyebrow. "So you didn't just get up and leave?"

"Couldn't," Noel said simply. "We had guards."

"We didn't kill anyone," Sophia promised. "Just wounded them enough so they couldn't pursue us."

The tall blonde grunted and murmured a barely audible, "perhaps you should have."

Ignoring her, I told them, "You are allowed to stay with us. However, that doesn't mean we trust you by your words. You have to earn our trust." I glanced over at Teresa to see if she had any objections. She didn't say anything and, instead, marched back to the cave with a scowl on her face. I followed her, noel and Sophia a couple paces behind me.

_What now? _I thought to myself, sighing and watching as my breath swirled around my head.

* * *

Having finished my meal of stale bread and dried meat, I sat against the wall of the cave, shuddering as the cold stone touched my skin. Noel and Sophia also had something to eat, but not as much as I had. Teresa and Clare sat against the wall opposite me. The young girl rested her head on Teresa's lap, watching Noel and Sophia carefully. The girl still didn't trust me completely, and I doubted she would warm up to those two any faster. After all, the last time she saw them, they were trying to behead her adopted mother. The fact that I had returned their weapons to them seemed to make her even more nervous.

Noel gave a loud burp, much to Sophia's obvious distaste, and then said, "You know, we had a lot of trouble finding you two. We probably never would have, if we didn't know where to look."

This seemed to worry Teresa. "Was our choice that obvious?" she asked, her silver eyes wide.

Sophia shrugged. "Yes and no. It seems to me the most logical location, but also the most inconvenient. At one point, we were about ready to give up and try another direction."

My friend relaxed a bit, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, and then used that same hand to stroke Clare's side. "The Organization has unmatched patience... I fear that they'll find us."

"If they do find us," I added. "It won't be with ease. Not many people venture out here, and even if their warriors find us, they'll surely be exhausted and easy to take down."

Teresa sighed and said, "even I grow weary of fighting." She then closed her eyes, a sign that she wasn't going to take part in any more conversations.

"It seems like you three have had some hard times," Sophia noted, looking over at me.

"Aye," I sighed. 'Teresa has been panicking over every little thing.' I thought, but didn't voice it out loud. "We've had a few things drag us down." I didn't dare mention Clare, for fear of provoking Teresa, which I did not want to do, given her mood.

Sophia seemed to understand what I was talking about, glancing over at Clare, who was watching and listening to us, hanging on to every little thing we said or did. Noel, of course, seemed clueless. "Like what?" she asked, to receive another smack from Sophia. This time, she didn't tolerate it, and shoved Sophia's shoulder. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she growled at Sophia.

"You're a clueless moron, that's what's wrong with me."

"You want a fight, bitch?" Noel snarled, grabbing her sword.

"Not at all," Sophia said smoothly. "We already know who'll emerge victorious."

Noel stood, snarling like a feral animal. Before she could make a move, Teresa barked, "enough!" The short haired woman paled slightly at her voice. Clare had buried her face into Teresa's lap, and the woman had her hand on the girl's head. "This is no time to be fighting like two dogs over a scrap of meat. If you're going to stay here, you don't do anything that will cause you to use your yoki powers. Got it?"

Teresa's eyes had darkened while she spoke, which sent a shudder down my spine. Noel instantly sat down and averted her gaze. "Whatever," she muttered. "Sorry."

"Clare," Teresa said softly. "Sit with Irene for a bit, okay? I need to be alone."

"Teresa..." Clare whimpered, shaking her head and hugging Teresa's thigh. "No."

"Please, Clare?" Teresa said. "For me?"

That did the trick. Clare gave a big sigh before she, reluctantly, scuttled over to me and sat on my left, hugging her knees to her chest. Teresa stood and marched over to the mouth of the cave, pulling back the animal skin curtain I made and venturing out into the snow.

"Yes," I said, looking over at Sophia. "Hard times indeed. Plenty of baggage too."

Clare fell asleep an hour later, unintentionally resting her head on my shoulder while she snored. The cave obtained an uneasy, tense silence while Teresa was gone. She was still out there, and I could sense her pacing back and forth along the rocky slope. _I should go talk to her._ I thought. In a way, I was afraid to venture out and coax her back inside. Teresa, while she usually had perfect control, tended to get violent when she was angry. Back when we were in training, several of our comrades had obtained broken teeth and bones from her short bursts of angry rage. She had never once injured me unless she had to. I didn't want that to change.

"You should go talk to her," Sophia said a moment after the thought crossed my mind. "I don't want her to be too angry with us... and you're the only one here who could calm her down. The only one awake, anyway."

I began to shrug, but instantly stopped because I didn't want to wake the sleeping girl. "She said she wanted to be alone," I murmured. "I respect that."

Noel tossed her head. "You have to, Irene. Otherwise, we'll have to leave."

Teresa was good at holding grudges. Even if she didn't force Noel and Sophia away, she would be angry for so long that they would practically have to anyway. "Fine," I grunted. Slowly, carefully, I took Clare's head from my shoulder and laid her on the floor. She didn't even stir. After taking a deep breath to release my nerves, I stepped out of the cave to search for my friend.

Teresa wasn't hard to find, just hard to get to. When I reached her, she became very still and watched me with a piercing gaze. "Well?" she asked with her eyes, not with her mouth.

"There's more depth to why your stormed out of the cave than what was happening in that moment," I observed. "Would you like to talk about it?"

She began to turn away, but I stepped forward and grabbed her wrist, holding it firmly in my grip. "Please," I whispered. "You're always telling me to open up."

"But you don't, Irene." she said in a harsh tone. "Not unless I force you too." Teresa wouldn't meet my gaze. Instead, her eyes locked onto the snow around her feet, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"You know it's not an easy thing for me to do," I told her.

"I know..." Teresa's expression became unreadable in that moment. For awhile, we both stood there without speaking and the only noise was the occasional gust of wind. When I became aware of the fact I was still holding her wrist, and that she had grasped mine as well, I felt blood rush to my face and had the urge to speak.

"Sophia and Noel... their presence, it bothers you?"

Teresa nodded, gripping my wrist a little tighter. "You'll think I'm a fool," she said, on the verge of a hysterical chuckle.

"I won't," I assured her. "Please, tell me."

"No," her voice was harsh once again and attempted to turn away, but I grabbed her other wrist, holding her in place. "I don't want to hurt you, Irene."

"Then don't, it's unnecessary."

Her face tightened into a scowl and she looked me in the eyes. "You're only here because Noel and Sophia want me to kiss and make up with them."

I was appalled by the idea. "Of course not!" I snapped. "I care about you, Teresa. That's why I pursued you, and why I'm still with you now. That's why I'm talking to you right now."

I could feel Teresa's anger simmer down and the scowl melted from her face, leaving a soft expression in its place.

"Please…" I said again. "I need to know."

The woman gathered herself, pondering over the thoughts that zipped through her brain, before she spoke. "I... don't want them here. They would be beneficial to our rebellion, but I don't want them here." She paused before she spoke again. "I wanted to be alone with Clare. I wanted to give her peace, an end to the hardships she's had to endure... And you: the Organization kept us apart on purpose, and when you were sent after me, I realized just how much I missed you. I would have been content to be alone with you two for a long, long time."

I didn't know how to respond to that. Hesitantly, I took half a step closer as if to comfort her. "I would be content with that as well, but it's not realistic. We need them, Teresa. And in turn, they need us."

Teresa lifted her head, and our closeness made me a bit uneasy, but at the same time, I enjoyed it. She made no effort to hide that fact that she was taking in my scent, adding to the shrinking of my comfort zone. "I don't need them, Irene," she said ever so softly. Teresa closed the gap between us, slipping her wrists out of my grasp and wrapping her arms around my waist. Her lips parted, pressing ever so gently against mine. I melted at the contact, and I barely had time to return the kiss before she pulled away and, without saying a word, stalked off toward our shelter.

For a long moment, I stood there in the cold, my fingers resting against my lips as I fed from that brief moment, knowing that my view of Teresa would be forever changed.

* * *

**Authors Note: **You can probably guess what my decision was about the TeresaXIrene relationship was. Just keep in mind that I'm TERRIBLE with romance, so having low expectations would probably prove to be beneficial for you xD


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